"The sunset cloaks these words in shadowplay. Here and now, long and loud, my heart cries out, and the naked bone of an echo says, 'don't walk away.'"

– 'The Last Beat of My Heart', Siouxsie and the Banshees.

—

Frank requested to be dropped off at an inconspicuous area on the block. It was a quiet, lonely neighborhood, inhabited by few houses gleaming with ropes of Christmas lights strung around the linings of trim rooftops. The first sign of snowfall fluttering down into the unforgiving cold only made sense, yet Frank still bristled at the sight of it, shoulders tense as his back began to ache from the stiff muscles. The cab driver wished him a merry Christmas Eve before she took off without second thought. Once she disappeared around the corner, Frank took off. He sprinted down the sidewalk, blocking off the distant hum of Christmas music and laughter rising from the scattered houses harboring families connecting to celebrate the holiday. Against his empty chest, Frank could feel Gerard's locket pressed to his skin, secure under his insufficient amount of layers like a reminder tapping urgently against his body to beg him to stop the way Gerard would if he'd been there. Frank swallowed hard and breathed deeply through his nose trying to flush out the flurry of scenarios where Gerard went into a desperate panic the moment he got a call informing him that Frank had taken off. Guilt germinated, sinking sharp teeth into his wired nerves, but Frank only pushed his legs harder in his sprint until his lungs protested from being filled with icy air frosting the corners until his diaphragm grew sore from it. He'd have to make it through the night to see if he'd pay for being out in the chill with a raucous cough.

Getting to the house buried behind overgrown green on the most desolate section of the street, Frank was flooded with nostalgia and sadness drinking in the rotted foundation and clear signs of long abandon, boarded windows and a wilting front door covered in crossing patterns of yellow tape to keep out intruders. It seemed to have done its job judging the untouched state of it, unless the lock had been carefully dismantled for anyone to sneakily enter. Frank glanced down the vacant street and skidded to the front door, heart pounding erratically. His hand misted in a fine layer of perspiration wrapped around the handle, twisting. The doorknob wobbled, nearly falling at the sign of his touch, and gave away to grant him entry to the dark inside that smelled intensely of old dust and damp wood.

There were several leaks in the ceiling, water damage spreading in discolored stains in the thin wallpaper, and the floorboards were coated in a thick layer of dirt with old footprints that already began gathering a new film of dust. All of the forgotten furniture was draped in white cloth, as depicted in Kristin's sketch, but a loose interpretation of a vision couldn't encapsulate the eerieness of covered furniture and the unbearable quiet swelling in all of the untouched rooms. It felt impersonal without any of his great aunt's belongings hung on the walls or scattered on the counters, yet it was familiar, especially as he spotted the rocking chair beside the sofa angled in front of the spot where the television used to be as if it expected his aunt to return someday to leisure with her elderly dog snoring in her lap.

Frank kept his steps light in fear of someone or something suddenly popping out. Each time he thought it might happen, there was only stillness; but it wouldn't remain that way for long. He swallowed hard as he watched his Converse create a new trail of prints in the dust, giving a view of the dark cherry wood hidden under the filth. He could feel the dirt swirling in unseen moats beneath his nose, filling his lungs moving quick with shaking breath. He approached the living room, nearly jumping out of his skin when glass from an empty broken frame crunched under his foot unexpectedly. Frank held his fist against his chest, squeezing his eyes shut to try to calm the fuck down, but his attempts were futile when all sense of bravery vanished in a fleeting second when a voice appeared from behind him.

"Don't you know it's dangerous wandering into abandoned houses all alone, witch?" The voice was taunting, melodic in a menacing croon as grating and startling as the sound of the glass Frank stepped on. It was only fitting it would come from a mouth instilled with sharp teeth.

Frank turned and met a gleaming pair of red eyes caught in a stray beam of moonlight slipping in through the crack at the top of a boarded window. The silver peeking out from the clouds ripe with a flurry of snow wasn't enough to serve as a proper light source. Stefan was a tall shadow with cold lifeless eyes and a faint outline of a face twisted in a crooked smirk. Frank felt the shivers forming, his flesh crawling with an outbreak of goosebumps, but he forced himself not to lay out his fear. He stuck out his chin, hands balling into fists at his sides.

"Nothing I wouldn't expect can happen here." Frank was surprised he could keep his voice smooth and free of tremors, but the sound of himself was tight, as if it could snap at any given moment. He wouldn't allow that time to come.

"Ah, right. You're the precious little lamb to the slaughter. I'll admit, I can't think of many instances where the lamb willingly steps into the lion's den." Stefan cocked his head to the side.

Frank's memory flashed back to a similar analogy Gerard had made for the two of them. Coming from Stefan, it was convoluted into a bloody and sinister picture void of any of the tenderness Gerard had spoken with. His heart gave a mighty lurch.

Stefen knew what he was thinking about. He chuckled unfeelingly. "Why isn't your vampire with you? Did he finally realize how idotic it is to protect one of your kind?"

Frank said nothing. His jaw flexed, but Stefan continued on.

"What was his name ... Gerard?"

"Don't fucking say his name." Frank spat ferociously, surprising the both of them. Stefan laughed, a sound short and loud as the crack of a whip. Frank nearly flinched.

"You two are such a strange pairing. I never would've imagined a vampire could be appealed by a witch beyond their power. Let alone, a family of vampires— it's a bit comical, isn't it? They're your natural born enemy. Had you lived to see it, your instincts would've kicked in eventually and I doubt you'd be as enamored by your boy as you are now." Stefan stepped forward and Frank went rigid at the first sign of movement. There was something in Stefan's hand, but the darkness shrouded it and Frank couldn't make out the shape.

Frank shook his head, turning away from the vampire's penetrating stare. "You don't know anything. Don't talk about any of them, we're here because of me."

In a flash of blurred movement and a gust of cold air stirring the dust caked on the ground, Frank was avoiding Stefen's eyes at one moment, then he found himself ensnared in a freezing iron grip crushing his back against a hard chest. Frank's heart dropped to the ground, thudding viciously, shock and fear flashing like a bolt of lightning through his body so quick that he couldn't stop the sound of terror from clawing up his throat. He squirmed violently, but there was no use. One arm anchored around his waist in a hold constricting as that of a deadly serpent while still holding onto the mystery item he brought along with him. A free hand clutched Frank's throat, feigning a gentle touch. Frank instinctively thought that was the moment where his life would be taken, but when the painful sensation of teeth ripping into his flesh never arrived when he expected it, he realized with a sick twist of his stomach that Stefen wouldn't relish in Frank's swift demise. He was making a toy out of him.

"Don't think I've forgotten what I'm here for, lamb. You smell absolutely intoxicating." He spoke in a nearly feline growl that made Frank freeze. Stefan's nose trailed up the side of Frank's neck, inhaling deeply, setting a wave of nausea in him. "Putting such a beautiful face to a scent like that feels blasphemous."

The next time Frank attempted to burst free, Stefen suddenly released him, letting him stumble forward idiotically and nearly crash to the ground when he almost missed the bookshelf he reached for to steady himself. Anger festered in Frank and whirled him around, his breath coming out heavy and short.

"What do you get out of doing this? Are you just a fucking sadist that gets off on tormenting people?" Frank shouted.

Stefen smiled cruelly. "Maybe. There's something beautiful about the way people stare up at me when they plead for their life, with that hint of emptiness at the back of their eyes because they know begging is pointless. They know their life was over the moment I began the hunt."

The sick feeling that hadn't quite left Frank's system skated up the sides of his stomach with a threatening lurch now burning in the back of his throat. He had to bite the inside of his cheek and clutch his abdomen to keep from vomiting at the thought of the hopeless terror Stefen's victims felt in their final moments. The same feeling he almost submitted to in the present.

"Fine. Take my fucking life, get what you want, just— leave the people I love out of this. Don't even think about them when you're done with me." Frank tried not to sound as desperate as he felt, but he failed miserably. He knew this would count as another one of Stefan's perverted moments he could recall when he thirsted for the hunt and considered seeking out a new victim, drawing it out as long as he pleased to hammer the terror deep into his victims for him to taste it when he consumed their blood.

Frank was suddenly winded by a blow to his stomach. He hit the floor before the pain engulfed his middle in a viscous shock, but he couldn't curl in on himself according to his body's instinct. Stefan was straddling his legs, keeping him pinned with one solid hand anchored on his shoulder in a grip that told him not to move an inch otherwise he wouldn't hesitate to pull his limb right from its socket. Frank gasped up at him, gagging at the pain mingling with his illness, and instead of meeting Stefan's eyes, he found a round camera lens peering down at him. What the vampire had in his grip the entire time was a video camera, one plucked right from Frank's father's belongings.

"I thought we could make a little movie of our own to join all these precious tapes of you as a kid." Stefan sneered, eyes glinting and pulsing crimson red. "It's sad how people document the beginning of their lives in their home videos, but never the end. We should change that."

Stefan lowered the lens until it was centimeters away from Frank's cheek. Frank kicked out fiercely, a sound of pure hatred tearing out of him. "Fuck you. Get that fucking thing out of my face."

Stefan tossed his head back with laughter. He unpinned Frank's shoulder for one moment to stroke his cheek with fingers like ice, making Frank flinch away from him. "I like you, Frank. You're making this fun. I hate when my prey doesn't fight back."

Frank stood silent. He glared defiantly, sealing his mouth shut to not offer Stefan any of the satisfaction he desired. Only, it seemed to amuse him judging by the grin revealing his sharp teeth gleaming in the lonely beam of moonlight. A trickle of fear poisoned Frank's blood at the sight of them.

"Now you're playing hard to get. How sweet of you." Stefan brought the camera further back to angle Frank's whole face into the frame. "Anything you want to say to Gerard? I'll make sure he finds this when he arrives and finds you dead."

Frank's teeth gnashed together in his rage boiling hot in his veins, flushing his skin that was otherwise crawling from the chill and the weight of Stefan above him. "I told you to leave him out of this. Get this fucking over with!"

"Wow," Stefan pretended to be stung by his words, "You pick and choose. You're in love with a vampire, yet you despise me, one of his kind."

Frank suddenly went still. His rage, white-hot and blistering, stood to a motionless point where he could feel the scalding severity of it just festering, an impending explosion. On top of it all, an odd heartbreaking feeling washed over him and he was suddenly so conscious of the weight of Gerard's locket at his chest beside his rapidly beating heart. He focused on it, searching for a pinnacle and digging towards the core of his anger, the very source seeping into every cell of his body and running at a hotter temperature contrasting with the intensity of the frigid cold surrounding him. He channeled and forced it into the front of his conscious, seething like he never had before in hopes of it opening up the forbidden safe inside— all to no avail. No matter how far he dug, he came up with soil, no signs of life or gold to glimmer in his hands and wield into the ultimate weapon. Even as he was consumed by his anger, it was useless. Frank simply wasn't powerful enough to awaken the magic.

Death was the only option left.

"He's nothing like you. He'll never be anything like you." Frank's voice came out low and shaking through his defeat. "You're a fucking monster."

Stefan stared blankly. His eyes narrowed the slightest bit around the corners, and without further warning, he was reaching back and gripping Frank's lower leg, twisting hard until the sound of cracking bone resounded in the house. Blistering pain tunneled up Frank's body in waves of agony crashing through the lower half. A scream he hadn't even known he was capable of producing came out, strangled and scathing his vocal chords from the force, but it was nothing compared to the sheer torture of his mangled leg limpy sprawled on the floor, pointed in the wrong direction. It was nearly enough to make Frank plead for a swift death out of fear of all the possible inflictions Stefan was wicked enough to bestow upon him before he met his end. But he couldn't give him what he wanted; he would never as long as there was still air in his lungs. It was all he could do anymore.

"That was a good shot." Stefan commented casually, cocking his head at the camera. "But I think we should redo it. I didn't catch the bone breaking on tape, I think your arm shattering would make a far more dynamic visual. Don't want any second of this to be a disappointment in case Gerard's a true film critic."

Frank deliriously shook his head back and forth against the gasps breaking up in his chest. "Just do it. I don't care anymore." He spat, though his body screamed at him to stop welcoming the chances of more of this unbearable pain.

"I'm not sure if you'll be able to handle it without losing consciousness and I want you to get a few words in before you go." Stefan held the camera close to Frank's face. "Would you like to say anything to your family of vampires?"

Frank nearly spat in the flat face of the lens. He turned his head defiantly, but Stefan gripped his face in a nearly breaking grip and yanked his head back, fingers digging harshly into his skin and seconds away from crushing his jaw. Frank barely swallowed down his gasp of pain. Stefan didn't like his suppression. He yanked his head up and smacked it back onto the ground with nearly enough force to knock Frank out. The pain bursting at the back of his head and the rapid pooling of his blood spilling under his head was the most disorienting Frank had ever felt, bursts of red amongst other colors flecking his vision. That time, Frank cried out. Stefan gave the coldest smirk.

"If not a message to the Ways, then perhaps your final breath can go out to your sweetheart." Stefan cooed, thumb stroking Frank's cheek. "Go ahead. I won't comment on whatever you decide to say to him."

Frank sluggishly blinked up at the lens glaring at his face and caught his reflection in the glassy surface. He looked as hopeless as he felt, drawn from his defeat and his own cruel hatred that had redirected the point of its dagger from Stefan to himself. He hadn't been strong enough to protect himself. In that was his failure to protect Gerard's heart he entrusted him to keep safe during the hunt. Frank waltzed right into the arms of danger thinking he alone could vanquish a being infinitely stronger than him with power he didn't even truly have yet, relying on a chance of luck and making a pathetic fool of himself by being so willing to throw his life away as a risk. He could picture the tortured look on Gerard's face when he discovered him, mangled and drained of blood on the floors of an abandoned house. The pure devastation as he knelt down beside Frank's lifeless body and dragged it into his arms, sobbing dryly into the cold darkness, repeatedly asking him why he did it. Frank wouldn't find peace in the afterlife for this. Not for committing such abhorrent cruelty to the one he loved and abandoning him to cope with his grieving for the rest of his eternal life. Gerard went against everything, his very own instincts, to be with Frank— and Frank betrayed him.

Frank gathered up his breath to speak, tears welling rapidly in his eyes. "I'm sorry," He rasped weakly.

Stefan waited, arching one eyebrow at Frank's weak final words, but as he said he wouldn't, he made no comment. He held the camera steady on one hand and snatched Frank's wrist in his crushing grip snapping the bones inside. Frank bit his lip to reign in as much of his scream as he could, his body seizing up and writhing. Blood stained his teeth and trickled to the corner of his mouth just as Stefan bowed his head and sank his fangs into the tender flesh of Frank's broken wrist. The pain was equivalent to two thin blades sinking beneath the skin and ripping out of the wound for Stefan to greedily consume.

Frank stared up at the ceiling with his vision distorting, splitting everything into two and blurring. Instead of focusing on the pain and the sensation of his blood being drawn from his body, he thought of Gerard. He pictured his perfect face, the eyes he'd been drawn to since the moment he first permitted himself to gaze into them and see beyond the irises to be introduced to the chilling ice caps that only melted into soft green landscapes when he began falling in love. Even if ethereal gardens didn't reside behind the glaciers, Frank would've curled up on the icy grounds, closing his eyes against the harsh wind on his cheeks for his warmth to melt through the bone-chilling cold. He'd sink into the freezing water and become consumed by it until the eternal fire at his wick burst to life beneath the surface to evaporate the chaotic sea, because he loved Gerard. There was beauty to grow mesmerized by on the outside for certain, but Frank wouldn't have fallen for him so deeply if he hadn't glimpsed the inside to find the complete opposite of the person Gerard pretended to be. Frank walked along his daggers until he met him in their meadow at the end where Gerard invited him into his arms, healed his broken skin and kissed his pain to soothe over the longing that came alive and restless in him. Frank wouldn't forgive himself for ruining Gerard by abandoning him, but he could be thankful for the extraordinary chance of getting to love, to hurt, to desire. Gerard was his favorite mystery he'd ever solved, his chalice of gold he brought his lips to for the chance to taste the wine of the marvelously unknown. Knowing he'd given Gerard the same made his heart fill with unadulterated warmth.

The warmth grew until it began to burn. Scalding heat seared Frank's insides, flushing his entire body to the point of brilliant pain, but it only lasted for a moment. When it imploded, there was no pain, but a euphoric sensation bursting through him. His body arched, his veins opening, his air leaving him.

Stefan burst into flames above him.

Frank hardly registered what was happening now that half of his blood had been drawn out of his body. His blurry vision struggled to focus on the sight of Stefan flailing wildly, scrambling away in an attempt to put out the flames. Frank gasped wetly at the pain flooding his body, pure hatred slamming back in, and with it came the rising of the flames engulfing Stefan's body. Finally, he knew of the pain his victims endured. He knew of the hurting resting deeply in Frank's broken bones, the sheer terror of sensing the end was storming in with awful inevitiabilty. Frank felt heat running at the speed of light in his veins, channeling from the very core of his soul. He tilted his head back, draining it all as Stefan's bloodcurdling screams dissolved into choked noises eventually fading into nothing as he burned to death while still alive. Frank's power burned like a star and faded out with consciousness slipping away from him to cope with the nonstop pain and the loss of blood.

With it came agony. Pure, undiluted and cruel agony. The fire must've extended over to him as his form of karma for taking a life. Bleeding into his insides, coursing through his body, completely dragging him under a sea of pain and darkness.

There was the sound of wood breaking, shouts and horrified sobs, a voice like that of an angel breaking through Frank's strange and painful rest. He drifted in and out, his internal screams going unheard, unless the wretched ringing in his ears was the sound of his endless cries.

"My sweetheart. I'm so sorry, Frank, I never should've left your side." The voice sobbed out with a pain almost more magnificent than Frank's. An angel of sorrow weeping over him, grieving for his soul.

"He killed Stefan while he was draining him. How?" Another voice, low and feminine, spoke with a tremor bridging between her words.

"He awakened the magic." Someone said grimly.

There was silence. Pain, endless and devouring, yet no one was taking mercy on Frank. Couldn't they hear him screaming?

"How did he know?" The angel sounded so cold all of a sudden. Another beat of silence. "Mikey. How did he know?"

"I'm sorry. He asked me. I didn't think he would do this."

A fiery growl that was much more hellish than heavenly. The sounds became distant as Frank was swallowed up. He pleaded whatever force kept him hanging onto his last thread of life to let him go, but to take care of the angel at his side.

"Control yourself, Gerard. Frank needs you."

More endless silence. There was a bright splash of stinging in Frank's wrist. All he came to know was the beginning and end of agony until he knew nothing at all.

—

The peace Frank became acquainted with in his sleep was what he'd always presumed death to feel like. A paradiscal whiteness that brought no pain and drew the remainder of it from his body so he felt like he floated in his eternal slumber. The warm comfort of it encompassed his body and Frank welcomed the sweetness of death's hold, lulled by the cradle of it luring him into its realm. Life wasn't as kind as this. Life was the very representation of personal hell or the place between that and heaven. The absence of pain in death came with the realization that to live was to endure, and even those who lived the most peaceful lives couldn't escape even the subtlest sadness in the constant struggle to survive. It was always present in some form or another, and in death, the possibility of it manifesting didn't exist. Frank had never felt so weightless.

When he felt himself being pulled from its embrace, Frank protested. He kicked, fought against gravity, and the last of the blanket of white slipped from his gripping fingers until he was endlessly falling. He plummeted through the clouds, into dark blindness, and slammed into the vast sea waiting beneath him.

Frank awakened with a startle. The gasp in his throat splintered off in a weak sound echoing in his heavy head that felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. His eyes were dry, vision untrustworthy as he blinked against the film formed across it. There was a steady mechanical sound nearby, a slow beeping that began scattering into a quicker rhythm; a heart monitor. He felt something uncomfortable on his face and there was peculiar humidity pressing down on his mouth. He raised his hands to tear away whatever was there, but a gentle hand wrapped around his wrist, stopping him.

"You're not supposed to touch that. You may need it still." Frank's first thought in his cottony mind was the recognition of this voice as the angel that agonized alongside him before his temporary death. Then, as he cleared away the cobwebs, he knew this voice as Gerard's.

Frank lifted his head up too quickly and his vision exploded with colors. He dizzily slumped back on the lumpy pillow under his head, gasping. A chilly hand swept across his damp forehead to soothe him, a soft shushing sound calming him instantly. Frank turned towards the coolness of that soft skin he could dream about for the rest of his life, but he wouldn't if there was a chance he could feel it in reality instead. Frank's heart lurched. He reached for him, searching, but stopped short at the pain in the bones of one of his extended arms.

"You're a bit broken right now, my darling. Be careful, try not to move so much." Gerard said so softly, like silk against Frank's returning consciousness, but there was a note of something tight and tormented behind it that made Frank frown.

Frank's eyes swept around the room. He was lying in a hospital bed in a wide white room, his leg suspended by a tourniquet and encased in a thick blue cast. Tubes and wires connected to his limp body and various parts of it, his wrist cradled in a cast as well which explained the pain in his arm when he moved it. It wasn't super unfamiliar waking in a hospital, but he was never in such an awful condition. He could feel the remnants of it still; the ache, the disorientation going hand-in-hand with weakness, the pain in his broken bones. Even his throat felt raw like a terrible case of a sore throat, but he knew with a cold feeling in his stomach that it came from his screams. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, lifting his free hand to cup the oxygen mask covering his face. Despite the advice he was given, he tore it off, ignoring Gerard's word of protest.

"I can breathe fine without it." Frank rasped out. He winced at the splitting headache he came to notice when he dragged in a deep breath, touching the side of his throat.

When he turned his head, he saw Gerard sitting beside him. The poor lighting in the hospital was always unflattering and tended to wash people out, but of course, that didn't pertain to Gerard. He sat in one of those uncomfortable plastic hospital chairs beside Frank's bed, his jaw hardened and his eyes wide with concern and relief, but he was beautiful as ever each time his lashes brushed the tops of his cheeks when he blinked and his soft dark hair framed around his pale face. Frank wanted to reach out and trace every feature, leaving a trail of kisses along his jaw to get it to relax, but he couldn't move without it hurting somewhere.

He couldn't explain why, but his eyes welled with tears. The instant Gerard noticed them, he crumbled. He leaned forward, cupping Frank's face in his hands so delicately that it made Frank's tears fall. He kissed Frank's forehead, then both his cheeks, resting their foreheads together as he tightly shut his eyes and dragged in a shuddering breath.

"I thought I'd lost you," Gerard forced out, "Your heart was barely beating when I found you. It was so weak that I couldn't hear it when I approached the house and I smelled all the blood, I immediately thought the worst had happened."

"I'm so sorry," Frank babbled through his tears, "I'm so fucking sorry, Gerard, I thought— I really thought that I could, that I could just find the strength and— god I was so fucking stupid, I can't believe I—"

"Frankie, don't cry." Gerard tenderly swiped Frank's tears away as he pleaded. "Please, sweetheart, I can't bear to see you in any more pain than you've already endured."

"I almost left you," Frank sobbed despite Gerard's beseeching. "I scared you and everyone I love. I thought I was dead."

"You're safe. That's what matters most to me. Stefan is dead, the hunt is over." Gerard looked deeply into Frank's eyes, pressing this statement into his mind with his piercing gaze, and Frank was suddenly enveloped so intensely by his spring that he thought he'd been sucked into another dimension. He gasped, flooded by pain and guilt so intensely, blooming weeds among a garden of affection. He flinched back from emotions that weren't his but felt as if they were, almost pressing into the bed railing opposite to Gerard.

The both of them stared at each other intently in a mixture of shock from the abruptness. Frank was suddenly cold without the warmth that invaded his body and curled around his insides. Gerard was frozen across from him and Frank didn't know what to say to defrost him.

Frank recollected the events that went down in a flood of memory. He remembered Stefan drawing out his pain, snapping his bones to pieces, devouring his blood. Above all of this, Frank remembered his veins opening up from the most peculiar consuming heat that radiated out of him, like a bold light had engulfed him, and whatever it had been was the only possible explanation for Stefan bursting into a violent flurry of flames. Frank was lost one moment, but then, in an instant, he knew.

"I awakened the magic." Frank whispered.

A grave look crept upon Gerard's face that went in strange tandem with the relief that seemed to take permanent residence in his eyes. He sighed, looking down with a nod. "It saved your life. You were a mere breath away from death. One minute and you would've been . . . gone." He choked.

Frank remembered accepting death, embracing it after his bones had snapped and he imagined they wouldn't be salvaged if he survived. The pain had been so surreal, so vivid that he was in disbelief they were capable of healing. He stared at his casts, heart thudding and visible on the monitor. He could feel the magic— a constant tingle, a tide lapping at his veins that remained open, a single degree raising his temperature and he shouldn't have been able to feel the difference, but he could. There was a distant sweetness on his tongue, almost something that could've been imagined, but it was most definitely present.

"Mikey told me you asked him how to awaken it."

Frank looked up sharply. Gerard's eyes remained soft despite the hardness surrounding his mouth. Guilt spread like vines through Frank's stomach and he swallowed hard as that wave of borrowed emotion overtook him again; stirring conflict, a faint trace of disapproval, and fear.

"I'm sorry," Frank spoke to the emotions Gerard wouldn't address, but he felt them, so much he almost became them. "I wasn't . . . I didn't think any of this would happen. I wasn't even planning on getting Stefan to come and find me, not until after I knew he was going to kill my dad."

"I understand why you did it, Frank, but I cannot even begin to comprehend the amount of danger you'll constantly be in now that the magic has secured itself in you. Describing it to you alone was a horror all on its own."

"But you've seen what I can do," Frank choked down the heartbreak wringing his neck out, "I can protect myself. I was at my weakest then, imagine what I'll be capable of when I'm unharmed."

"You shouldn't need to protect yourself in such a way, Frank." Gerard pinched the bridge of his nose. "You saw how awful things got when you were at your weakest. Now, you'll be a target for a mass of vampires. Forces you don't even know about yet."

Frank limply melted into the hospital bed. He tore his eyes away from Gerard, falling onto the white hospital sheets resting over his body. A deep sadness rested over his shoulders to be the reason behind Gerard's stressed disappointment. He hadn't been able to think so clearly in his planning, hellbent on playing the hero and not thinking of the damages he would inflict if he survived with his magic. The target resided not only on his back, but above the heads of the entire Way family.

"I fucked up," Frank's voice broke, "I know that, and I'm so sorry for putting you all in the middle of this. Just please. I can't stand feeling your disappointment in me."

Gerard's head snapped up. His hand dropped from his face and he reached out to retrieve one of Frank's hands between the firm yet still careful grasp of his own, gently squeezing his fingers until Frank forced his gaze to return to him. His expression had grown unbearably soft, striking the center of Frank's recovering heart.

"I could never be disappointed in you, Frank. There's certainly an obstacle for the both of us to overcome now, but how could I ever be disappointed in you for doing everything in your capability to keep yourself alive?" Gerard reached out to brush a tress of Frank's wild hair from his face, caressing his flushed cheek with tender eyes and a floral soul Frank felt encasing his heart in petals. "Your amount of resilience is beyond what I thought was possible for a single person to harbor. Do you know what you overcame?"

Frank swallowed thickly. "An asshole vampire's attempt to kill me?" He tried.

Gerard gave a weak laugh, shutting his eyes for a moment. He opened them again to trace his gaze over each of Frank's features somberly. "You have a broken leg and wrist. You were moments away from having the bones in your hand shattered. There's a crack at the back of your skull, and . . . bruising. All over. Including your face."

Frank instantly remembered all the reasons behind his lacerations. His hand instinctively cupped loosely around his jaw, feeling around the skin and noticing it was not only inflamed, but flushed and sore. He remembered the harshness of bitter cold fingers digging into his skin almost hard enough to break it and instantly dropped his hand, wincing. He remembered Stefan's bite and grazed his broken wrist, staring up at Gerard with eyes full of questions.

"There was venom in your blood. That was the torturous burning you felt. You either would have died before it spread or it would've overtaken your system first, and then," Gerard grimaced. "Then you would be one of my kind by now."

Frank's eyes grew large, a bolt of shock striking him. "That's possible for me?"

"It's extremely rare for a witch to turn. If hybrids are made it's almost always vampires who've consumed witch blood. Majority of the few cases have been incidents like yours. Very, very few turned willingly. They were all found and slaughtered instantly."

Frank's fingertips stroked the skin just above his cast in thought. He thought of the puncture wounds that would've been left behind, but he assumed there was some explanation behind that, or the doctors counted it as insignificant in comparison to the rest of his injuries.

A sudden thought struck him, his eyebrows knitting together. "How did you get the venom out?"

Gerard's eyes hardened. They averted Frank's gaze, shame roiling off him in chilled waves Frank shivered against, raising his concern. "I had to draw it out. Cleanse your blood."

Surprise silenced Frank. He couldn't think of an adequate response and couldn't keep his gaze on Gerard out of fear he'd think he was scrutinizing him. He dared not ask how it was possible for Frank's blood to graze Gerard's tongue without him completely losing all sense of control, but the question passed through his mind, too grand of a concept to even comprehend. The very thing Gerard always feared would kill Frank had become the only way to save him.

"It was impossible to stop. I almost didn't. But I found the strength somewhere within me." Gerard whispered each word with the residue of agony he endured finding the will to stop himself from draining Frank. Frank sensed it as if he witnessed the scene through Gerard's eyes; an intolerable grief he defied, the trigger of insatiable thirst perturbing a vicious beast stirring underneath Gerard refused to allow victory. He fought for control the way Frank fought to survive. It was all Frank could do to reach out and intertwine their fingers in a comforting hold, driving him away from a dark place where he'd almost given into his bleakest impulses.

"Does that mean you absorbed some of my power?" Frank asked softly out of both his curiosity and in search of turning the subject onto a slightly different track.

"I'd have to kill you to absorb any of your magic." Gerard grimaced at his choice of words, shaking his head. "There were some odd side effects at first, similar to a high of sorts. It faded in a few hours."

Frank sighed in relief. He wouldn't have known what to do if Gerard soaked in any amount of his power and dealt with the endangering repercussions. He tilted his head back to rest it back on the pillow, wincing at the soft swell of pain throbbing at his skull. He looked down over his body, battered and bruised, and released a groan.

"God. I don't know how the fuck to explain all of this to anyone."

"Oh, we've fabricated a convincing enough lie. Instead of rushing home to California and facing the wrath of your father, you took off to Washington since it was one of the very few other places you were familiar with. I followed after you to talk things out, but you were overwhelmed, so you took off to see your great aunt's house as a means of escape and ran into extremely aggressive squatters. I'd asked you to text me the address to make sure you stayed safe and went looking for you when you didn't return."

Frank rolled his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at Gerard. "Aggressive squatters, huh? Sounds like my luck." He sighed.

"Which is exactly why it's convincing." A trace of amusement danced along Gerard's velvet voice. The sound of it made his lips tug upwards on instinct in a semblance of a smile, evoking the same expression from Gerard who took a moment to openly gaze at him as if pondering his existence, or how he was so lucky to have survived. Frank would do the same if the roles were reversed.

"Did my parents buy that story?" Other factors sank in with slow realization crashing into his body like a splash of ice water. He instantly paled. "Oh my god. My parents. Oh fuck, they've gotta be pissed at me. Pissed pissed."

"You'd be right. Though, above that, they're greatly relieved you were found in time." Gerard gave Frank's hand a reassuring squeeze, a fold of concern creasing between his brows in concern over Frank's reaction. "They love you very much, Frank. They've already forgiven you for any distress that's been caused."

"And I bet there was tons of distress to go 'round." Frank mumbled under his breath, but found it as a great relief to know forgiveness was releasing him from some of the thick web of guilt he'd been trapped between, a weight lifting off his sore shoulders. "Where are they? Are they still here?"

"They're grabbing food in the cafeteria."

"Together?"

"You're their child, Frank, they do have that in common." Gerard smirked subtly and brought a rosy blush to Frank's cheeks. Then his face softened, his head cocking to the side ever so slighlty. "They were reminiscing while you slept. Talking about your childhood."

"I was way easier to handle back then. I didn't go around getting into deadly fights with vampires." Frank gestured to his broken state, some of his previous smile vanishing. "They don't have anything against you now, do they?"

"There were definitely some . . . damages to be repaired. Nothing I couldn't resolve on my own. I can be very convincing when I need to be."

Frank hated that layers of lies were creating an entire foundation of falsehood, especially in a situation where he could've easily lost the battle back in the house. But he reminded himself it was only necessary to protect them from the horrors that could come with the world of vampires, and even his own kind, witches. He thought about the possibility of Stefan surviving, triumphant in his game, and he doubted the vampire would respect his wishes to keep his loved ones uninvolved once Frank's blood had been consumed. He nearly shook off the thought, but another detail resurfaced, chasing the new flush away from under Frank's skin.

"He recorded me. Did the camera burn, too?" Frank asked urgently.

Gerard went alarmingly still. A beat of silence fell between them, filled only with the sound of Frank's rising heart monitor. Noticing the change in rhythm, Gerard forced out an answer. "We found it closeby."

"You didn't watch the tape, did you?" Frank stared. He awaited his answer, dread collecting in a nauseating bundle at the lack of response and the crippling waves of coldness emanating from Gerard. "Gerard. Did you watch the tape or not?"

Gerard released a shaking breath. He folded his hands in his lap to fix his focus on them, fixing his expression into a mask of careful composure that drove Frank mad when he knew the opposite was raging inside him.

"I did. As a punishment for myself."

Frank blanched. "Punishment? What— why the fuck would you need a punishment? Why would you do that to yourself?"

Gerard's gaze slowly picked back up and found Frank's. A wave of fresh emotional agony waterfalled over Frank's head and spun around his neck in circles, sinking slowly into his aching chest.

"I should have never left your side. It's true he would know wherever I went, you were sure to follow, but everything that transpired could've been avoided if I'd allowed him the knowledge of our whereabouts and taken him on the instant he found us." Gerard shut his eyes so tight it looked like it would hurt if he were human. It became abundantly clear that he was taking the burden all on his own.

"You're blaming yourself for this." Frank spoke in a low, matter-of-factly voice.

Gerard looked damaged. "It's my world, Frank. I brought you into it. Look at the state you're in."

"I'm alive. I'm fucking alive, Gerard. I don't even know if I was living before I knew about any of this." Frank couldn't get the words to rush out soon enough, all of them escaping in one single gust of air that wasn't enough to soothe the internal wounds Gerard dug into himself in the time Frank slept.

Gerard shook his head ruefully and some of his pain distributed to enter Frank as well. "You were living a peaceful mortal life. It may seem mundane to you now, but trust me, it's infinitely better than whatever dangers you can find in a life like mine."

Frank stared for a long time. He almost burst, an instinctive rush of disbelief that funneled through his system and left behind a dreadful sadness cooling his new warmer temperature.

"I wouldn't have ever gotten to love you." Frank whispered, the words breaking in halves yet painting a full picture as he reached out to brush his fingertips against Gerard's pale cheek, reveling in how he tilted towards him, eyes shiny and unsure. "Do you even know what loving you means to me?"

Gerard searched his eyes. Unable to read him, he came up with no answer, a crinkle of frustration forming on his forehead, his lips parting ever so slightly to draw in a shaking breath. Frank spoke the words he couldn't unearth alone, stroking a thumb along his smooth skin, swallowing hard.

"I thought I could invoke the magic with rage. I definitely had a lot to spare when Stefan was taunting me. When that didn't work, and I thought— I thought I was going to die, I focused on you. All I could think about was how at least I got to love you, and you knew that I did. And that's what triggered my power."

Frustration combined with self-loathing gradually melted from Gerard's face. In place of it was endless gentleness giving his face a youthful glow he'd taken with him into his immortality, enhanced as he leaned into the cupping palm handling his cheek with care. His eyes fluttered shut to revel in the warmth soaking into his cold skin and Frank tried to emanate a deeper warmth for him, surprised by the fluidity of heat rushing through his veins in an outbreak of tingles gathering in the center of his palm. Gerard answered to the magic with a kiss upon his skin, both hands folding around Frank's to clasp it between his own as he contemplated the etched lines at his palm and his fingers in fascination. When their eyes met again, Gerard half-smiled sweetly enough to make Frank ache with yearning.

"If only you could know just how deep my adoration runs for you." Gerard's thumb followed the path of one of the most prominent creases in Frank's hand, eliciting a pleased shiver involuntarily rippling through him. His words brought a burst of passion dancing along Frank's flesh and circling around every organ, every atom, encasing it in petals of sweet flowers plucked from the ripened earth and flooding his senses with their honeyed scent that was a lot like the kind in Gerard's skin. Frank was drawn into him; completely, melding with his soul until he felt he could burst apart, sharing one single body for two souls intertwining.

"I do know." Frank said in a dazed, dreamy voice, then quirked a teasing eyebrow. "Witchy sixth sense. It's practically a tenth sense for how intense it feels now."

"Oh my," Gerard rolled his eyes humorously, "Absurdly unfair you'll be able to read me from now on while your thoughts are still a complete mystery."

"You're never getting rid of me." Gerard chuckled in answer, stroking a hand through Frank's hair. His eyes grew unfocused, fixing on the corner of the blanket as he relied on his ability to read into thoughts entering the frequency he subconsciously tuned into at all times.

"Your parents are coming up to see you. Would you like me to wait outside?" Gerard blinked back into focus, raising both eyebrows in question.

Frank shifted, nerves coming into play at the thought of facing his parents after the devastating stunt he'd pulled. He hadn't even had time to think of responses and reasons he could come up with in case certain questions were asked.

"Um. If you don't mind. Sorry, I just don't want them to say anything awkward in front of you." Frank sheepishly sucked his lower lip into his mouth to bite, but realized there was a splitting ache there from when his teeth pierced the skin back in Washington.

Gerard nodded with complete understanding. Rising gracefully from the chair, he softly said, "I'll be back when you're finished." He retreated quietly and left Frank in waiting silence until his parents entered on cue.

It was odd seeing them beside each other after not witnessing them in the same room for years. A tendril of nostalgia tickled the back of Frank's brain and sank into his heart that would always carry the faintest of scars from unaddressed hurting a child would understandably experience when witnessing their parents' marriage disintegrating to an irreparable standing point.

"You're finally awake!" Linda's voice sounded exhausted as she appeared, frazzled and aged a decade from stress, but the relief resting heavy in her tone speared into Frank along with his father's. He was bombarded by emotion before he was prepared to process it, almost being drawn into their heads and their hearts in unrelenting consumption, but Frank curled his unscathed his fingers into the blanket resting over him to prevent it with all of his might. He'd need to work on the new intensity of his power.

"Hey," Frank greeted weakly. He wasn't sure what else he could say.

Frank Sr. allowed Linda to take the chair beside the bedside while he hovered beside her. The both of them stared down at him in their combined relief laced in sorrow to take in the state of him all mangled and struggling to recuperate, but at least they hadn't been there to witness the damage when it was most savage. He doubted they would've been able to stomach that.

"Should we get a nurse?" Linda asked worriedly over her shoulder.

"No," Frank answered quickly on behalf of both of them, flushing under their wary stares, "No, I just— not yet. I kind of want to process before I have a nurse coddling me and checking in every two minutes."

"You remember what happened, don't you?" Frank Sr.'s brows furrowed.

"I do. It's not that I don't remember, it's just that I remember a lot." Frank swallowed hard around the knot of unidentifiable emotion forming in his throat.

"The doctor told us you lost so much blood you had to get transfusions, Frankie." Linda gripped Frank's unharmed hand tight with teary eyes. "I don't want to think about what would have happened if Gerard didn't go out looking for you."

"I know," Frank whispered hoarsely, "I know, and I'm so sorry for doing this to you. To the both of you."

"I had a damn heart attack when your mom called and told me what had happened." Frank's father began, almost sternly, but Linda shot him a disapproving gaze and he took a breath to come down from his instinct to be upset first. But Frank felt it came from a place of worry, of the fear he'd experienced while he was states away, completely helpless.

"We're just so relieved you're safe and back home." Linda squeezed Frank's hand. "Gosh, I don't even know if I want to let you out of the house ever again."

"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't." Frank turned his head, shame burning under his cheeks.

"You're an adult now and you do have your freedom, but you're living under my roof still. Never do anything like this again."

"And if you wanted to come back to California, why didn't you just say so, Frank?" Frank. Sr asked without the firm tone Linda possessed, more of a soft tangle of confusion. "None of what you did was necessary. Not one bit."

Frank scrambled for reasoning to justify what he'd done, but there was no excuse, not a single reasonable explanation and telling the truth was so far out of the question that Frank didn't even entertain the thought while stammering. He pressed his mouth into a tight line and took a grounding breath through his nose to think.

"I don't know what happened. I just, I've had a lot of pressure on me with my senior year, I couldn't adjust, then just when I thought I had, I had that stupid fight with Gerard which was pretty much my fault." Frank shook his head slowly. "I never wanted to hurt anyone. Especially not you, mom, you didn't deserve anything I said."

Linda gazed plaintively, and Frank felt her pain, pinching and empty like heartbreak he hadn't experienced for himself; it was an ache only a mother could feel for her child. Knowing how deeply he'd wounded her made tears sting at the back of his eyes that counted as his own and hers.

"You're a good person, Frank. I know you. You wouldn't do or say anything without a reason." Linda sighed deeply, eyes pointing to the ground. "Which is why we wanted to talk to you about something."

Frank's eyes widened.

Frank Sr. took over, hesitating before getting the nod of approval to continue. "You can come back home to California with me once you're well enough to board a plane if that's what you want."

Frank went still. His eyes flickered restlessly between both his parents in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"We want you to be happy. There's some . . . serious arrangements that would have to be made first since you're almost done with school, but I'm sure we can make it work." Linda smiled without the sentiment reaching her eyes that were still glistening with sadness. She reminded Frank of himself for a moment, marching through pain and seeing to the benefit of others even if it caused her to suffer.

Frank needed to choose his words carefully. Under expectant stares, the pressure rapidly built, and his face already burned with violent redness from his combination of embarrassment and shame for causing this large of a scene only to backpedal to the beginning, making all of his actions seem as though they were all for nothing.

"I . . . I don't want to go back," Frank said carefully, avoiding their eyes. "After all that's happened, I think it would be better if I just stayed."

Silence gathered. A pull of confusion rested on Frank's shoulders and tried coaxing him to look up, but he couldn't.

"Are you sure?" Frank Sr. asked dubiously. "Don't feel like you need to stay, kid."

"I don't think it would be absurd if he wanted to." Linda poorly masked her hurt.

"I have friends and other things for me here." Frank shook his head, shrugging as much as he could without it aching. He desperately tried to keep his tone from softening as he thought of what 'other things' referred to in order to prevent his parents from putting two and two together, but in the fleeting moment he dared to glance at them, he found them exchanging a raised eyebrow.

"It's that boy out there, isn't it?" Frank. Sr. asked bluntly, ignoring Linda's eyes bulging out at him. "It's obvious he's in love with you. He didn't even try to hide it when we talked earlier."

"Please don't tell me you grilled him with questions about that." Frank blurted out in a high voice.

"Of course not," Linda murmured, "He saved your life. We only wanted to thank him for that."

Frank's shoulders relaxed from their stiffened form. As he glanced between their faces, there was no disapproval or anger as they handled the possibility that Gerard had any part in Frank's decision to stay in Astoria.

"He's . . . only one of the things I would hate to leave behind." Frank said and he wasn't being completely dishonest. He glanced at the cabinet beside the bed, decorated in balloons and stuffed bears, cards visibly signed with familiar signatures that could only belong to his friends. His heart gave a clench he felt in every part of his body.

Linda gave Frank's shoulder a squeeze. "You know I love having you here, Frankie."

"I won't be too butthurt if you'd rather stay with your mom." Frank. Sr said lightly.

Frank smiled warmly at both of them, nodding in silent confirmation. They spoke for a moment longer, small talk about what went on while Frank was away, the promise of Frank's father staying in town for a while longer to stay beside his son during the most grueling part of his healing process so he would have the comfort of both his parents if he found himself in need of them. Frank refrained from saying he would always need them in some way, but the words stayed stuck in his throat, even as they stroked his hair and bid him a temporary goodbye to get some much-needed rest after several nights of barely getting any.

Moments after, when Frank was just beginning to drink in the heaviness of the hospital room with only himself occupying it, Gerard returned to vanquish the uncomfortable energy growing in the air.

"I'm guessing you were listening the whole time?" Frank cocked a knowing eyebrow.

"What's the point of being able to read minds if I don't use that ability when it's most convenient?" Gerard responded half-jokingly, half-seriously. He leaned forward in the chair he sank onto to immediately retrieve Frank's hand, stroking the back of it with inexplicably warm eyes. "You're staying in Astoria."

Frank nodded, smiling faintly. "You really thought there was a chance of me ditching you for some sun and a golden tan?"

"I wouldn't be upset if you'd chosen your old life." Gerard looked between both of Frank's eyes in all seriousness. "I couldn't ever be so selfish as to persuade you to choose any differently than what your heart desires most."

"I'd find some way to bring you with me if I'd chosen my old home. It's bright as hell out there, you'd only get to come out at night like a real vampire." Frank flipped their hands to bring Gerard's to his mouth, kissing the back of it with a brush of his lips.

"Am I not a real enough vampire for you, Frank?" Gerard's upper lip pulled back over his teeth in his teasing grin, fangs snapping out from gums and glinting in the harsh hospital lighting. Instead of speaking, Frank reached out to tap the flat of one fang with the tip of his finger, earning a comically bewildered and cheerful expression from Gerard. His fangs retracted and Gerard batted Frank's hand away with a soft laugh. Frank's own laughter vibrated through him, but brought with it a wave of intense aching, a bright spark flaring up when he shifted against it. A soft hiss escaped his clenched teeth and Gerard straightened his spine alertly.

"You're in pain. I should call in a nurse to check on your vitals and set you up with more pain medicine, it seems your previous dose is wearing off."

"No, I'm fine." Frank shook his head vehemently, ignoring the dizziness weighing him down instantaneously. "Fit as a fiddle."

Gerard stared incredulously for a long moment. Without his eyes leaving Frank's, he leaned in towards the wall to hit the red button stationed there, speaking into the intercom. "Nurse, Frank's awake and in dire need of pain medicine."

"We'll send someone right in." A cheerful voice answered.

"I despise you." Frank glared petulantly.

Gerard grinned in a secretive way letting Frank in on the mystery in a way where could practically hear his words echoing in his head, a fond 'you don't really mean that' he let rest under his tongue.

The nurse entered the room in a far more chirpy manner than Frank anticipated from someone working in such a dreary atmosphere inhabited by the sick. She took Frank's vitals, checking on his casts and hurdled hundreds of questions his way that he barely answered before another one was catapulted. He tossed a bemused look in Gerard's direction when she was distracted by paperwork and received an amused smirk in reply, his arms folded over his chest as he watched from a respectful distance.

In the end, the nurse carried in the pain medicine to plug into the IV drip set up at Frank's bedside. The moment it trickled through his system, Frank felt the effects, his head spinning in an endless loop for several seconds before things clouded over in a blanket of contentment and a subtle chill clashing with the heat of his blood. The nurse chuckled knowingly at his expression and told them to summon her if they found they needed anything, but judging by her tone, Frank would be knocked out before he could even check if he had any other needs to be tended to.

Frank blinked away his warping vision and fought the weight of sleep growing heavier by the second, turning his head towards Gerard and frowning as he noticed his view of his face was obscured by the blur in his eyes.

"Whoa," Frank mumbled, "Haven't felt this weird since I took that edible sophomore year. Did you know I went to see a movie right after with my friends and had a panic attack in the theater bathroom?" The medicine definitely had slightly more than a drowsy effect if it dragged out that bit of forgotten information from him.

Gerard chuckled lowly. "No, but that's one more amusing thing to know about you. The list continues to grow." A cool hand grazed his forehead and brushed a lock of hair away. "Get some rest, angel. God knows you deserve it."

"Can I have a kiss? Jus' a lil' one." Frank groggily asked, afraid his words were unintelligible from the way the syllables slurred together, but he sensed Gerard's comprehension before he confirmed it.

Gerard leaned down, eyes impeccably tender under the long sweep of his lashes, and pressed his lips gently to Frank's. When he pulled back, the tips of their noses brushed and Frank wished he could drag him down into the bed with him to curl up against the comfort of his body, but he was incapable of moving more than an inch and his limbs were growing impossibly heavy with the work of the medication.

"I love you." Frank whispered, his eyes falling shut.

"As I love you. Infinitely, and maybe even more than that."

Frank's eyes didn't open again, but he felt his lips tug up in a dopey smile he carried with him into his peaceful rest. 

— 

Only one more chapter left and then book one is complete! This chapter has been running through my head for a long time and it's such a relief to finally get to write it out, although it was a bit brutal and I HATE hurting my most beloved characters I think this chapter just made me love Frank more. Which is a little funny to me because I wrote him and he's not a real person (save for the face/name claim but honestly I see the MCR guys as completely separate from bandom fanfic characters, I hope you do too!) 

Let me know your thoughts if you have any to share and hold on tight for our long-awaited final chapter! Love to you all. 

-rosexo